


Hate Sex?

by NotYourFavouriteRecord



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Insecurities, M/M, Shy Wrench (Watch Dogs), angst with happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9213038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotYourFavouriteRecord/pseuds/NotYourFavouriteRecord
Summary: They were celebrating getting rid of Lenni and the FBI, but adding T-bone meant that things got outta hand quickly.Like 0 to 100 in a nanosecond quickly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea. 
> 
> Hopefully not ooc and it doesn't go past Horatio's death because I'd like the angst to be limited thank you very much.

The first thing that hit Wrench on the morning was the headache; a burning throbbing sensation that had him absolutely dizzy. Something else that had got him was his garage door opening and shutting carelessly, almost harsh and hatefully.

Damn he hadn’t had hate sex had he?

Attempting to move, Wrench tried push himself up into a sitting position he began whimpering, sparks of burning pain from his ass, hips to his fucking nipples. Another storage sensation was the dampness that he was sat in, sticky and....

Wrench began moving slow pitiful motions theta were broken by whimpers and grunts, limping to every article of clothing he could find.

Eventually fully dressed, he notices a piece of crumpled paper that rested, folded and vainly attempted to be neat, on a half of his dirty mattress. Limping over, he picks the paper up, unfolding it carefully, and loosing his stomach and heart in the process of reading it.

_I'm sorry. It was a mistake._

_-M_

 

Wrench inhaled deeply, raking a hand through uncovered and unkempt hair. He has just had sex with his best friend. And strange enough to admit, even to himself Wrench couldn’t find a part of himself to hate it. He wanted to remember what he did with his best friend last night.

 

But Marcus didn’t.

 

That struck him hard, he had just had sex with his friend, an amazing one that knew the real him. He wasn’t hiding underneath no Masks with Marcus, because that’s how Wrench wanted to be. The mask simply enabled him to do it.

A thought plagued him, maybe Sitara was right in always calling him a weirdo, maybe he was a freak.

 

No, there’s no maybe about it.

 

He is a freak. That’s why it’s a mistake. In a vague, or vain, attempt to control his now erratic breathing Wrench placed a hand on his heart. Visible brows furrowed in worry at the sharp ripping sensation travelled through him. Mainly through his heart. It repeatedly ripped through, like a never ending loop. And then it happened.

Wrench realised what the hell was happening.

 

He is in love with Marcus.

 

He rakes a hand through his hair again and closes his eyes, wishing it all to be a dream.

* * *

 

Marcus was woken to the unfamiliar presence of a warm bony but strangely comforting body beside him. It takes him a while to even be bothered to open his eyes, a mental debate between snuggling into the body or looking at them. The battle for comfort and vision is won, vision declared the winner.

Eyes groggy and unfocused, the darkly tanned male’s vision soon cleared heart dropping and brain shutting down again at the sight of a drone above, attached to the ceiling.

  
“Shit, man...” he grunts, shifting out of messy, torn at sheets. Gathering up the strength to move, hasty eyes survey the room.

He’s upright soon, giving a stretch of locked muscles gathering up clothes. He placed them on Wrench’s mechanic bench, trying to dress stealthily.

Soon he’s dressed in his hipster skinnies, baggy tee, and two toned sneakers. He creeps to the garage door, finally noting (and remembering) the turned off Wrench Jr. He also glances back at the still sleeping Wrench, now only half covered by the sheets of the worn down mattress. He pats down his pockets, a paper and pen is all he needs.

Finding one he quickly writes it as a note and saying how it was mistake and how he’s sorry. But he doesn’t want to be sorry, he wants to stay to curl up beside Wrench. He glances longingly at the male before placing it on the mattress beside the figure, before turning back phone out, hacking the door open and bolting it out to the nearest car, carelessly shutting it.

It’s afternoon when he’s got the balls to go to the hackerspace he pushes open the door to Gary’s games & glory and then he’s turning back around running. He couldn’t face Wrench, not today and neither tomorrow. But soon he decided, soon.

* * *

 

Wrench slides down the wall the rounded bottoms of where the spikes attached to his vest digging into his back. His mask isn’t on, he didn’t want it on. His body shakes into uncontrollable sobs, face buried into his palms. He’s in love with a dude who doesn’t love him. His best friend. The guy who he fangirls over Jimmy Siska with, who he can talk about video games with, who he can talk to about anything. Who he can feel normal with, without his mask. He runs a hand through his hair, tears still streaming and sharp broken gasps still escaping him.

Somewhere between garbled sobs and cries and muffled hiccups that still wrack him, he finds the strength to pull himself up and move to get his mask from the bench.

 

He stares down at it an unknown emotion burning through his veins as he stared down at it. With something he didn’t know he could feel to this thing that enabled him to do so much he threw it hard against the walls before once again falling back down, back leaning against one of the many counters in there. His body trembled as another wave of tears were pulled from sore dried eyes.

He falls asleep like that.

It’s the day after, a night and afternoon of napping with breaks of drinking obscenely large amounts of alcohol he had purchased the first time he had roused from his sleep. He stumbled around, aimlessly before falling onto the bed that was a mesh of dishevelled sheets. He only wore his mask when he went out, so right now his face was bare and disgusting. He passed out shortly, bitter memories of the time he had spent with his best friend flitted behind his closed eyelids.

* * *

 

They both stay away from the Hackerspace for a week. Or at least Marcus tried to, succumbing to the boredom and isolation that the spiked man brought. 

 

He entered the coded, patiently waiting, and upon opening no reaction at the green 'fuck you' sign that welcomed him. What did prise a reaction from him was empty and eerie silence that surprised him. 

 

Walking down the stairs he was surprised to note that Sitara, Josh, Horatio and T-bone where there, except Wrench was nowhere to be seen. It surprised Marcus, normally Wrench practically lived here, hardly leaving. It sent a pand he was accustomed to with Wrench and a surge of concern, panic and the want to protect the tattooed male. 

 

Sitara spotted him having finally noted the familiar sound of the key codes being pressed. "You been hanging with Wrench lately?" She inquired, concern lacing her words. Now that he thought about it, they all looked on edge, hell even Josh that existed in his own little world look on edge of a panic attack. 

 

"No not for a few days," he says. He gets a furrowed brow, and Sitara worrying her lip. 

"Josh, you think you can do a camera sweep of San Francisco," she adds, "focus mainly in terms rooftops." 

 

"How long has he been gone Sit?" 

"Four days, since we got lit," she stated. Marcus' brow furrows in confusion, none of the information clicking. "All we can do is look for him, I suppose," she says. He stares at Wrench’s bench, a wave of concern flooded through him. He hopes they find him soon. 

* * *

They find him three days later, or at least Josh does. Josh comes to them in a near frenzied state, "Shit Shit, shit!" He meets Sitara and Marcus by the centre phone on hand as he speeds up to them.

 

"Josh? What's wrong?" Sitara inquired. 

"I've found him, he's not alone," he says it wide eyed, a visible fearflashing through them, "Lenni's there." He pulls up a video and clear enough on the rooftop where Marcus had returned Wrench’s mask, Wrench sat with Lenni grinning maliciously at him.

 

"That bitch," Sitara snarled. 

 

"Marcus, Sitara you have to go get him," Josh says. 

 

"Why the both of us?" Marcus asks, although he feels a sag if relief at the thought of not going alone. 

 

"Because Sitara can't get charged for hitting a woman," Josh supplies in leiu of reason. Sitara smirks at this and is already dragging Marcus out of the hackerspace. 

 

The car ride is uncomfortable, sole reason being that they could think get to the GPS location quick enough.

 

When they do get there Sitara's already half way up the stairs, shoes hitting the metal staircase resounding through the multistoried car park. Marcus is quick to follow behind her, a strange combination of anxiety and regret laced together embedded in his heart. 

 

The fire exit door is flung open, Sitara is storming her way to Lenni who seems somewhat surprised at the arrival of the duo.

 

"Well, well look at what we have here, Sit-" she's cut off by the sounding smack of Sitara's hand colliding with the right side of Lenni's face. 

"Get the fuck away from me and my friends, Prime Bitch!" She snarled, a fury filled look pulling at her face. Lenni thought that it something to feel threatened about, looking almost reluctantly accepting the angry woman as a blatant superior in ferocity. She left silently, stoically. 

 

Wrench stood up and looked at his friend and his...

He was pulled out of his search to pair a word to Marcus when he felt arms encircle him almost tentatively. He notices the purple hanging around the neck, registering it as Sitara. 

 

"I'm debating between pushing you off of here or suffocating you with a hug," she says as Wrench tentatively wraps his arms around her. The moment is quick and there pulling away and as Wrench scrambles to pull something together Sitara speaks.

 

"Look whatever your running from, just make sure you ain't running from us, cause you know you stuck with us for life right?" She asks and gets a chuckle in return.

 

"Yes ma'am, I know that," it's mocking but reassuring. Sitara remembers Marcus but also notes the silence and  _tension_ between the two. It doesn't take long for her to putt two and two together and soon she coming with an excuse to leave the duo alone. 

 

"I gotta get back, T-bone and Horatio are probably wondering where we got too," and before either of them can come up with a response she taking off back down the stairs. 

Marcus and Wrench have a stare down for a few seconds before Wrench is looking down at the ground. Marcus takes the lead.

"Look man that night didn't mean anything," he groans takes off his hat and his other hand filters through his short hair, "shit man, 'course it meant something. What I'm tryna say is that if you don't want it to man then I'm good with that okay? Just, shit don't go avoidin' me like that again okay man?" He chuckles, trying to pull the lighter side from this situation they had found themselves in. 

 

Wrench was trembling, in happiness. It wasn't a mistake, he thought with relief. Somewhere through what Marcus had just said he had pulled his mask of and looking at the dark male who had his eyes clenched in a form of frustration. The only sound were slightly ragged breaths, no doubt now to Wrench, that they from saying all of that. 

 

Wrench stripped himself of his spiked vest, anxiety and _something_  flooding though his veins. He pushed himself up onto his tip toes, hands hesitantly placed on Marcus’ shoulders causing him to snap his eyes open just as Wrench pressed his lips tentatively over the other males.

 

It was a burning sensation Marcus thought, as he brought his arms around Wrench, pulling him as tight as he can cramming every ounce of passion and desire that he can. He’s sated with the kiss, dry lips meeting no matter how chapped. He grows adventurous, lips parted, pink tongue snaking through to poke and prod at sealed lips. Marcus’ tongue traced Wrench’s pouty lower lip, eliciting a gasp from the bony male. Pink tongue slipping through, it pokes and prods at the other tongue, a strong attempt to coax the tongues to battle. Soon they’re sliding their tongue around the others a clumsy battle for dominance.

 

It’s clumsy, messy and just so...

 

_Wrench and Marcus._

 

The kiss was inexperienced and innocent from Wrench, where Marcus had kissed a lot of girls, never feeling this way about a man, an experienced passion on his side. Together it was something so indescribably beautiful, that had a passion thrumming through their veins.

 

Parting for much needed air, Wrench thought Marcus had quite possibly come up with the greatest question in history: “Your place or mine?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, before you all have a heart attack, there will be smut, I can guarantee you that, mkay?  
> Comment anything you want keep it implicit though kay? Hope you enjoyed part one. Wednesday of Thursday expect part 2.


End file.
